Try to Smile
by Jaliee Holmes
Summary: Try to smile. Try to laugh. Try to enjoy yourself in whatever you do. But no matter what never frown. Never cry. Never do something you might regret. Remember all these things. Say yes to things that would normally be no. You never know what tomorrow might bring. Last, but not least, never regret something that once made you smile. Or someone.
1. Chapter 1

"Sherlock. No. Don't do this to me. You promised. You can't break a promise Sherlock. Sherlock, please don't," a broken voice entered Sherlock's conscious. "Come on Sherlock. Just hold on. Please."

"I love you John," Sherlock whispered, barely strong enough to turn his head to look at John. "I've always loved you."

John's voice just became even more broken than before. "I love you too Sherlock. Please don't leave."

"Goodbye John."

"No. No Sherlock! Come back to me! Please! Sherlock, please!" he cradled Sherlock's head in his arms.

Sherlock took one last shuddering breath and that was it. John tilted his head back and let loose a mournful cry. How had it all came to this?

* * *

 _Two Weeks Ago_

"Boring! You can leave now." Sherlock said to a client who looked befumbbled.

"But, I, I, who did..."

Sherlock threw his arms in the air. "Oh for goodness sakes! No one broke into your house and attacked you! You were drunk and your wife was waiting for you because she was throwing you a party. You came home and she jumped on you knocking you over. You hit your head on a rock and concussed. There! problem solved! Now LEAVE!" he shouted at the man.

The man left quickly and John raised an eyebrow. "That was a little harsher than normal. You feeling okay?"

"I'm fine!" Sherlock spat. "Just leave me alone! None of our clients have any good cases so tell the last two that yes both of their wifes are having affairs."

He stormed into his bedroom and slammed the door shut, it shaking the entire flat. John looked surprised, unsure of what was going on there. Doing as asked with the last two clients, he knocked on Sherlock's door. He wanted to make sure the detective was okay. They were supposed to be going to dinner tonight, but John didn't want to push him if he wasn't feeling alright.

"Sherlock? Are you alright?" his voice came in, muffled by the door.

Inside the room, Sherlock sat on the bed, a small box in his shaking hands. He had to do it tonight. He was so nervous, but If he didn't John might move on and that was one thing Sherlock would not be able to stand. Since he had met John he had made Sherlock's life complete. He was like the missing puzzle piece to Sherlock's heart. And he couldn't loose that.

Hearing John at the door, he slid the small box into his pocket. This door opened slowly, the retired army doctor peeking in on him. Sherlock didn't meet his eyes, and instead looked down. John opened the door the rest of the way, and went to sit down besides Sherlock. He wrapped an arm over his shoulder and leaned his head on him. Sherlock reached up and grabbed his hand, leaning on him slightly.

"Are you okay Sherlock? You seem nervous," John said, his eye looking over him.

Sherlock let a quick smile cross his face. "I'll leave you to your deductions."

"Oh yeah? Well then, I deduce that you're still ticklish from when you were five."

Fear flashed through Sherlock's eyes as John's arm left his shoulder and moved down to his bare feet. "Now John. You wouldn't. Would you?" he said, biting his lip.

"I would."

Sherlock tried to bolt from the room, but John was faster. He pulled Sherlock backwards on the bed, his fingers moving all along his sides. Sherlock squirmed and tried to get out of reach, but failed, as he only enabled John to reach his face. Starting to laugh, he yelled stop it, but it came out as a squeak instead of a yell. Reaching up, John tickled his sides again. This continued for quite a while before both flopped back on the bed, exhausted with the game of tickle monster. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock, smiling.

"I love you." he whispered.

"I know you do. But I love you more."

"Is that so? Well I..." he was cut off as Sherlock kissed him and he kissed back.

They laid there, just cuddled up together. A few minutes later Sherlock turned to look at John and smiled shyly.

"What?" he asked suspiciously.

"We have to get up and ready. Remember tonight?"

John snuggled closer to Sherlock. "Aww. Do we have too? I could stay here all night."

For a slight second Sherlock was tempted to say yes. But remembering what he had planned, he shook his head. A smile broke out at the puppy dog eyes John gave him.

Sitting up, Sherlock got off the bed and offered a hand to John. John reluctantly took it as he was yanked up. Pushing the doctor out towards his room, Sherlock leaned on the door frame, smirking.

"Go get ready. We need to leave in twenty-six minutes and thirteen seconds if we wish to not get stuck in traffic," he said.

"Show off," John muttered.

Sherlock nodded. "Only the best for you," he teased.

As John walked off, Sherlock fingered the small box in his pocket and panicked when he couldn't feel it. Looking on the bed he was relieved to see it there. Opening it, he smiled at the ring inside. His smile faded as an awful thought struck him. What if John said no? How would that impact their relationship?

Sittting the box on his dresser he, took a deep breath. "Don't think about it Sherlock. If he says yes or no, both of those options are for future Sherlock to worry about. Just go and enjoy your date. When the time feels right, propose," he said aloud to himself, straightening his tie in the mirror.

A knock came at the door. "Sherlock, you ready to go?"

Tucking the box in his pocket, he opened the door. "As soon as you are," said Sherlock.

The two made their way down the stairs and out the door, but not before grabbing their coats. Sherlock did his magic trick of holding out his hand and a cab appearing. Making their way to the restaurant the ride was silent. They ate dinner, and Sherlock watched the entire time for the right time to propose. Not once did he see it. Eventually he just gave up and finished dinner.

John instited on walking back to the flat. Sherlock eyes lit up at the opportunity. A romantic walk through the park was just what he needed to help set the mood. Smiling at John he took his arm and they set off. The two walked for a while, talking about random stuff, merely passing the time. Eventually, Sherlock stopped and turned to look at John.

"Sherlock, is everything alright?"

"John I just wanted to say something. Since I met you, you've changed my life. You've completed me. I love you John, and if you'll have me, I'd like to be with you forever. John Watson. Will you marry me?" the detective got down on one knee and held the open box out to him.

A sharp intake of breath came from John. "Oh Sherlock. I, I can't believe it. It's so beautiful. I don't know what to say."

"A yes would be nice," Sherlock thought to himself, forcing himself to look into John's eyes.

His smile faded at the look in them. He already knew the answer. He kept his arms extended with the box, and held his breath, hoping he was deducing John wrong for once in his life.

"Sherlock. I..."

* * *

 **Hey everyone! I'm back already. I might need to change the line on my page that says I won't write often! Well I hope you enjoyed and please review!**

 **~Jaliee Holmes**


	2. Chapter 2

"Sherlock. I... I'm sorry, but no." John looked away. "I just can't."

A small sigh came from Sherlock. He looked hurt and rejected. Closing the ring box, he slipped it back into his coat pocket. He turned and started to walk away. John grabbed his scarf, pulling him back.

The scarf fell off, and John snatched it. "Sherlock, please, just listen to my reasoning. I can't marry you because it's just not the right time. We've only started dating four months ago. No one knows yet, not even Mrs. Hudson. Maybe later, but not now," John turned Sherlock towards him. "Please understand."

Sherlock bit his lip. "It's fine John, really. I'll see you back at the flat," he turned away, hands in his pockets.

"Sherlock..." John walked after him.

"I said it's fine! Just, just leave me alone. I need to think," the detective walked faster. "Please. Just leave me be."

A tear rolled down Sherlock's face as he broke out into a run. John stopped walking as he looked on at the retreating figure. He hated telling Sherlock no, but he just wasn't ready. He just hadn't realized how much that 'no' was going to hurt Sherlock.

Back at the Flat

Sherlock ran up the stairs, ignoring Mrs. Hudson's 'hello Sherlock'. He locked the door into the main part of the flat, and then the one into his bedroom. He threw the ring box at the wall, it popping open and the ring falling out. He tried not to cry, he really did. But it wasn't long before the pain of it all took over. The tears started to fall and all he could do was cry. He should've seen it coming. He should've known John didn't care for him that much. Accepting that fact, he curled into a ball and just cried.

Speaking of the devil, he heard said person climbing the stairs and unlocked the main door. Sherlock knew it wasn't much of a blockage, but it was all he had. John tried the door handle to his bedroom and found it locked. Instead of unlocking it, it could be opened with a small flathead screwdriver, he knocked. When Sherlock didn't answer he spoke.

"Sherlock I know you're in there. Please come out, or at least unlock the door," his voice sounded desperate and sad.

Sherlock's own voice couldn't sound any more different than John's. His sounded cold and. wounded more than anything. "Go away. Just go away. I don't need you to hurt me anymore than you already have. You've done enough damage, must you do anymore?"

John winced. "Sherlock please. Just unlock the door and we..."

Sherlock threw the door open. "And we what? Can break my heart some more? Of maybe tell me that you hate me? I don't want to hear it. I just wanted you to love me forever. I just wanted to insure that you'd always be mine. I just wanted to..."

John cut him off, kissing him passionately. Sherlock, dispite his pain and anger for John right now, kissed him back, their tounges fighting for dominance in the other's mouth. As the kiss was finished, John left his hands on Sherlock's shoulders, staring in to his eyes. Seeing the distressed look, he frowned sadly.

"I never said I hated you. I love you Sherlock to the ends of the earth and back. Never think that I don't. It's just not the right time. I admire your enthusiasm. Hell, I admire everything about you. But we just need to take this slowly, not rush in so fast. And if marriage and love is what you're after, I promise you, you'll get it some day. Now, can you forgive me?" John whispered sweetly into Sherlock's ear.

A deep sigh was all he got in response. He leaned up against Sherlock. His Sherlock. The Sherlock who admired and loved him so much he was willing to marry him. A smile touched his face. Maybe things wouldn't end so badly after all.

"John?"

"Hmmm?" he responded.

"I love you John more than words can say," Sherlock spoke softly.

"I know. But I think we should be getting to bed. We do have a big day tomorrow. You know, Mycroft and the rest of bloody British government?" he laughed.

Sherlock couldn't help, but grin. "Oh no. Wouldn't want to miss that. Seeing my brother, dragged off to Buckingham Palace in a bedsheet, and being given a case I don't really want. Wouldn't want to miss that for the world," he snarked with a familiar hint of sarcasm.

"Yeah, yeah. I know how the relationship between you and your brother is. Or well, isn't. But still, let's go see what he wants. Goodnight Sherlock," John mumbled in his ear.

"Goodnight John," said Sherlock. With a slight kiss he added, "Sorry about today."

"Oh Sherlock, I'm not mad at you. One day we will, but for now, let's just be our own person, okay?"

"Okay."

Sherlock planted a kiss on John's forehead and the two parted. As the door closed behind him, John smiled. Everything would be okay.

* * *

 **And I'm back! Thank you to all who read and reviewed! I hope you thoroughly enjoy this chapter. Please review!**

 **~Jaliee Holmes**


	3. Chapter 3

"Please?"

"No." The puppy dog eyes returned and John glared at Sherlock.

"Just this once? Come on, you know it'll be funny. Well Mycroft won't think that way, but who cares about him?" Sherlock begged.

John refused to give in. "Sherlock you cannot wear nothing, but a sheet to the heart of the British nation! I'd be a fool to let you! Go put on some real clothes NOW!"

Now Sherlock was glaring at John. Making an extremely childish face at him, he walked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. John sighed and flopped in his chair. How in the world was he in love with this, this psychopath?

He could hear it now, Sherlock telling him he was not a psychopath, but a high-functioning sociopath. Chuckling at the thought, he shook his head.

"You might have been a sociopath once upon a time, but you are not now. More like a big cuddly bear," I said aloud to myself. "Yes a big cuddly teddy bear. That is how you describe the great all-seeing Sherlock Holmes," I chuckled, unable to rid the mental image from my mind.

Sherlock came out, dressed in nicer clothes. Nicer being a relivant term of course.

"At least it's not a sheet," John mumbled. "Ready to go?"

Sherlock looked mildly annoyed. "If I must."

"If makes you feel any better, I have to go too."

"It doesn't, but thank you anyway. I appreciate the effort," he smirked at John.

John tossed Sherlock's coat at him, and Sherlock snatched it greedily. Putting on his own coat, he rolled his eyes as Sherlock turned up the collar.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Sherlock cocked an eyebrow.

John rolled his eyes again. "Why must you act like a show off all the time?"

"Because John, that's what I am. I am a show off. That's what I do," the two clambered down the stairs together.

"No Sherlock. Last time I checked you were a detective." John walked around to the other side of the waiting car, opening the door to slid in.

Sherlock looked earnestly at him. "And last time I checked you were a solider, not an assistant for a detective."

Rolling his eyes one last time, John and Sherlock slid into the car, and shut the doors. The car started and they were off to Buckingham Palace. Thankfully Sherlock wasn't in a bed sheet this time.

* * *

"Sherlock, Dr. Watson. Nice to see you again." Mycroft addressed them as they walked in. "Thank you for bringing him in something more than last time."

Sherlock scoffed and sat down. "Enough chit chat. What was so important you couldn't come to us? I really don't have the time for this right now."

"Nonsense. You don't have a single case. You're going to take this case. Now please, allow me to explain. Her name Sharia Morn. In the last five months, she's bombed three buildings, robbed seven banks, hacked MI-5 security twice, and killed nineteen high up government officials. She's done this all by, herself. She's a dangerous monster and will do anything to get her way. We didn't want to get you unnecessarily involved, but with her latest movements, we find it in our best interests to get you on the case. If you find her, I'll make sure you get a hearty reward. If you take her down, you'll both be knighted and have whatever you want. If you bring her back alive, that's fine with us. If you bring her back dead though. That's even better. We want this woman gone," Mycroft spoke with such disgust you might've thoughts she was the devil herself. "So in short, find Sharia Morn, take her down or bring her in, and this'll all be over. That's all we request. It'll be dangerous, but do you accept?"

Sherlock's eyes twinkled with excitement. "We accept. Where was she last seen?"

Mycroft allowed a small smile to flirt across his face. "John, if you'll please follow Mr. Paljor over there to retrieve the information you'll need, I do wish to speak to my brother."

John left, following said person and Sherlock stood to face Mycroft. "Well?"

"How did the proposal go?" his brother questioned.

"He said no. Apparently we need longer than four months dating and a year and a half of merely just living together before we try to get married. He also thinks no one knows we're dating. So he obviously hasn't realized you know," Sherlock scowled slighted, a small sigh escaping.

Mycroft frowned. "I'm sorry Sherlock, but it may be for the best including this case I have for you. It will most likely prove to be fatal. But don't say anything to John, as I may be wrong. Though I would prepare to die," his voice sounded softer than how he normally talked to Sherlock.

"Oh," was all Sherlock could manage. "Okay."

A tear slipped out and Mycroft was quick to catch it. "Don't worry. I promise to take care of the doctor. I never hated you, and I don't plan to start now."

Sherlock cast his eyes downward. "I know. Thank you Mycroft."

John walked up, a cream colored folder under his arm. "Ready to go Sherlock?" he questioned.

"I'm ready."

The two walked out, discreetly grasping each other's hands. John was smiling, and Sherlock. Sherlock was dreading what he was going to have to tell John when they were back at the flat.

* * *

 **Hello everyone! Thank you for the review and I hope you enjoyed. Please review!**

 **~Jaliee Holmes**


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey John?"

John looked up, smiling broadly at Sherlock. "Yes?"

"I was just thinking. It might be in our best interests to, you know, to well, not exactly be together."

John's heart stopped and his smile vanished. "Are suggesting we break up?" he questioned.

Sherlock nodded, but looked away, unable to meet John's gaze. John looked heartbroken. Millions of thoughts rushed through his head, but one caught his attention in particular. 'Is this my fault? Because I didn't say yes? Did I cause this?' he asked himself.

"It's not your fault. It's something else entirely," he heard Sherlock say.

John didn't care. He was ready to be sick. He should've known Sherlock was not okay. He should've seen it. Standing up from the side of the bed he'd been sitting on, he went to walk away.

"John. I'm sorry. It's just this..." Sherlock was cut off before he had time to answer.

"No Sherlock, it's alright. I understand. I just wish you hadn't lied and had just told me how upset you really were."

"John please. I really am sorry. I have my reasons and if you knew them, you would understand. Just understand this small thing for me," Sherlock urged John.

John took a deep breath, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. "It's fine Sherlock. I assure you. I just want you to know, that even though you may not love me, I still love you."

He left the room along with his heart with laid in a thousand pieces on the floor. Sherlock heard him climbing the stairs, and the creeking of his bed. He also heard his sobbing. Looking at the floor he let himself cry softly too.

"Trust me John," he whispered, "I still love you too. I'll always love you."

The next day, nothing really happened. Sherlock started some work on the case, but didn't get very far, mainly because every time he turned to talk to John, he wasn't there. It was hard. The man he loved. The man he adored and relied on and basically would do anything for, wasn't there. He knew he was up in his room still, but he was getting worried. Unlike Sherlock, he didn't really have a way of getting rid of stress. Sherlock knew this event was very stressful for him and was concerned that if he didn't get help soon something worse might happen.

Climbing the stair to John's room, he stopped short of the door, hesitant to knock. Deciding against, he slowly opened the door, panicking when John wasn't visable. He searched the room, still unable to find him.

"John? Are you in here? John!" he shouted tearing apart the room searching for him.

He found a note labeled to him, and opened it to find a photo of them torn in half. He felt a tear fall as he got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Sherlock I'm sorry I said no. I didn't know it meant so much to you. I just wasn't ready. I'm so sorry Sherlock. I really am. I didn't mean hurt you and I still love you. I love you Sherlock so much. I will never love anyone else. I promise you. I'm only leaving because I don't want to hurt you further. I would do anything for you. Anything Sherlock.

Love, John

As he read the note and clutched the torn photo, he sank to his knees. What had he done? He was only trying to save him a heartache. But Sherlock hadn't saved him from one at all. No, in fact, he had just made it worse.

Suddenly Sherlock felt super impatient for Sharia Moan to kill him.

* * *

John had been wandering about the streets of London for hours now. He felt slightly guilty for leaving Sherlock without a warning or a goodbye, but he was genuinely upset. He had never been so hurt before at anything Sherlock had done.

Walking into an alleyway, he slid down the wall and just stared at a picture of him and Sherlock. Why hadn't he just said yes that night? It could've prevented this. If only Sherlock hadn't lied to him. Just tell the truth. That's all he had to do. He would've more than gladly broken up with him on better terms.

Black despair clutched his heart and he choked out a sob. He still loved Sherlock, he really did, but he was starting to wonder if Sherlock had ever loved him. As the tears fell, and his heart shattered, it seemed to be clear that he never had and never would.

* * *

Back at the flat Sherlock was dialing up his brother. When he answered, he let loose a small sob, making his brother even more concerned than he already was.

"Sherlock, is everything alright?" he asked.

"Mycroft do you, do you know where, where John is? I can't find him," Sherlock managed to say.

"I'll pull up some cameras. Just hold on. When did he go missing?" the soothing voice of his older brother asked. "Sherlock? Are you still there?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him since last night. It's all my fault Mycroft! All my fault!" he cried.

Mycroft inhaled sharply. "Sherlock, take a deep breath. I need you to remember. What went on last night? Did anything out of the ordinary happen? Was a client acting suspicious, was John really nervous, did Mrs. Hudson say..." he cut off abruptly by Sherlock.

"I broke up with him Mycroft. That's all there is to it. I broke up with him and now he gone and ran away. Please find him. I beg you please."

"Oh Sherlock. Of course I'll find him. Give me a few minutes. Where are you right now?" the eldest Holmes questioned. "Come on Sherlock. Answer me please."

"I'm at the flat. Will you come over? Please?" Sherlock begged.

Mycroft's voice held a certain regard of sympathy in it. "Of course. I'll be right over and we can look for John together."

"Thank you Mycroft."

"Anytime, brother mine."

* * *

 **Hey everyone! Sorry about taking so long to update! Thank you for the reviews and I hope you enjoyed! Please review!**

 **~Jailee Holmes**


End file.
